Dog Years (1950)
love from the view of the pound
I got a bad desire
Oh, oh, oh I'm on fire
A homeless man gave me a quarter earlier because I looked ‘worse off than him’ but he didn’t seem rude and it came off genuine and trustworthy so I took that quarter and went right into the local diner to buy a 25cent pop and the year is 1950 and my wife is home having a mental breakdown because the color of the wallpaper looks like mustard and she hasn’t left home in a year.
It’s taking a toll on the family and I’m starting to doubt the beauty of Suburbia.
My son, Jr, 11, a baseball star, is setting off fireworks in the neighbors mailbox with his friends Ben and Joe. My daughter, Emma, 14, is showing her ankles at school. It’s a doozy of a life.
I get the pop and sit thinking of a conversation I had when I was 24 (1939).
It was with a beautiful blonde girl, sweet and petite and she even let me neck at the drive in one night! Oh boy what a time!
I think of her while my family is breaking down at home.
I’m remembering our last conversation, it’s as clear as the New Zenith “Zephyr.” Long-Distance AM reception, New Giant Dial Speaker. Powerful built-in Zenith Wave magnet. Convenient “Flexo-Grip” handle with a plastic cabinet, “Roman Gold” trim televisions set.
We were in the backseat of my dads Chevy BelAir and she said
“I wish you were capable of loving me”
“What do you mean? I am?”
And this is honest question and confusion has grabbed me by the brain and taken me captive - I’m stuck wondering, curious, where would that come from!
“You aren’t, it’s cute you think you are but also kind of sad.” She says this between a frown, eyelids heavy with despair from what Could Be.
I remember the look on her face as one of defeat. It’s not set in stone -yet- but it’s the type of expression that’s moving towards being permanent. Also the type that a silver tongue can change.
“Why do you think that?” I asked. The million dollar question. I look at my current day pop and a tear falls, meshing with the condensation. It’s the age of conformity and the other men in here have slick short hair with stoic faces three piece suits but I’m not like them. Atleast I don’t think I am. The reflection from the bar highlights how similar I am. A spitting image! OH GOD!
I cry more and flashback to save myself from reality…
She hasn’t responded so I ask again, “cmon, why do you think I’m incapable of loving you.”
“Well.. you know I can hear you in the car right? Once you drop me off I can hear you barking and growling.”
“Yes” I say, “well, I didn’t know you could hear but yes I do that”
“Well my ma and pa say you got too much of that dog in you. And that’s not someone that say I should be with.”
More tears fall on my pop and I leave, heading to the homeless man to give him a hug and I whisper in his ear “save every penny you get for the next 3 years and in 1953 bet every thing you have one The Yankees winning over the Dodgers.”
MUCH LOVE
WINSTON
SOULED
TIME TRAVELER
PROGRAMMED BY THE CIA AT AGE 4 and AGAIN AT AGE 6
